Genevieve's POV

I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm and the sun seeping through the curtains, casting its light upon my eyes. Groaning in frustration, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed. Despite the strong temptation to stay and sleep, I had an important meeting with the investors today.

After a few more minutes of laying down, I finally mustered the willpower to get up and began preparing for the day. I turned on the shower, hoping that the cascading water would wash away my worries. Closing my eyes, I allowed the hot water to embrace my skin, but my mind involuntarily drifted back to a memory that was now tainted.

Flashback...

Someone had been aggressively knocking on the door for several seconds, and I called out, expecting it to be Wesley. I opened the door, only to feel my hands trembling and my eyes widening in horror. Standing before me was not Wesley, but the man I had feared my entire life—my step-father.

"Miss me, you little whore," he spat before forcefully entering my apartment.

Frozen in fear, I couldn't move, uncertain of his intentions. "W-what are you doing here?" I stammered, my voice trembling as I slowly turned to face him.

"I'm here for you, of course," he said, smirking as I shuddered in terror.

I watched as he approached me with purposeful strides, his hand beginning to rise. Instinctively, my hand went up to shield my face as I tightly closed my eyes. The sound of the slap reverberated through the room, and a few moments later, I felt the searing pain on my cheek where his hand had struck.

"P-please, stop," I begged, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the ground beneath me.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" He snarled, grabbing my hair with one hand and lifting my frail body off the ground, his other hand wrapped around my neck.

With all the strength I could muster, I shook my head, still gasping for air as his grip constricted. I struggled to breathe, my heart pounding in my ears, and my hands continued to tremble violently. Darkness began to cloud my vision, and just as I felt myself on the verge of losing consciousness, he released his grip, allowing me to fall to the ground, gasping for precious air.

Looking up at him in terror, all I saw was his smirk, his eyes intently observing my every move. "Don't ever think you can escape me. I will always follow you," he promised, leaning down over me before delivering a harsh kick to my stomach.

I cried out in pain as I watched him leave my apartment. Lying on the floor, I eventually mustered the strength to crawl to the bathroom and step into the shower. I turned on the water, attempting to wash away the memory of his touch, but all I felt was numbness, a detachment from everything.

As the water turned cold and my teeth began to chatter, I remained oblivious, lost in my own world. After a while, I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me, and I looked up to meet the gaze of those magnificent grey eyes. My body relaxed under his touch as he carried me out of the shower and gently placed me on the bed.

End of Flashback...

That was the moment I let my walls come crashing down, and I came to the realization that I loved him. My mistake. I sighed and turned off the water, needing to clear his face and memories from my mind. Stepping out of the shower, I dried my body with the white towel hanging next to the shower door. Wrapping the small towel around my body, I walked over to the bathroom counter. I picked up my new hair dryer and began drying my hair. Once it was dry, I reached for a curling iron and created loose curls.

Applying some light makeup, including smokey eyeshadow, mascara, and a nude-reddish lipstick, I admired my handiwork with a smile. Stepping out of the bathroom, I entered my walk-in closet, greeted by my collection of clothes, purses, shoes, and jewelry. Being the CEO of a major company not only had its perks but also paid very well. While I usually refrained from boasting about my wealth, I could confidently say that I was a billionaire.

Yet, despite my success, I couldn't help but scrunch my nose when reflecting on my journey. Even with my tremendous achievements, it took immense effort to get here, hindered by the pervasive sexism in society. I had lost many deals and clients simply because I was a woman running the company. They often claimed that a woman couldn't handle a man's job and that emotions disqualified me from running a business.

Over the years since my divorce from Wesley, I had toughened up. Having someone distrust you was different from facing disbelief and unequal opportunities simply because I lacked a certain anatomy. But I had persevered, and I was now successful and content... somewhat.

I chose a white blouse from one of the hangers, along with a black skirt and a belt. Changing out of my towel and into the outfit, I admired myself in the mirror. Wesley had always told me not to go to the gym because I was perfect the way I was, but in the past years, I had committed to daily workouts, and I was proud of my progress. Not only did I have a slightly toned stomach, but my posture had improved, and I had developed the ability to defend myself if needed.

Stepping away from the mirror, I grabbed my purse and made my way downstairs, where Malachi was waiting. "Hello, Ms. Car- I mean Natasha," he said, correcting himself.

"Hello, Malachi. I think today I'll be taking the Porsche, so you can just follow me," I replied, opening a cabinet where the keys to all my cars were kept. I grabbed the keys to my black matte Porsche 918.

"Whatever you need," he said, holding the elevator door open for me.

I gave him a smile as I walked into the elevator and descended down to my garage, where all five of my prized vehicles were kept. Unlocking the Porsche, I got in and turned the keys, listening to the engine purr to life. Music to my ears. Opening the garage door, I drove out onto the busy streets, with Malachi in his SUV not far behind me.

I drove to my building and parked right outside, taking a moment to admire the towering glass structure. I then walked into the white, modern reception area. Making my way to the private elevator reserved for my use, I noticed everyone walking within three feet of me respectfully stepping aside. I grinned, acknowledging the level of respect they had for me.

Stepping into the elevator with Malachi right next to me, we rode it all the way up to the top floor. The doors opened, and I stepped out, heading straight to my office. It was located at the end of the hallway, with my secretary's office on the left and conference rooms lining the right side.

"Boss, they are waiting for you in the conference room," she said, standing up.

I frowned, glancing at my watch—it was 9:47 AM. "Who is here?" I asked, curious as to who had arrived before the scheduled 10 AM meeting.

"One of the investors and his assistant," she replied, motioning towards Conference Room 1.

"Okay, thank you," I said, making my way into the conference room.

"I apologize for keeping you wa—" I began, but my words trailed off as I laid my eyes on the two individuals in the room, most importantly the person who had shattered my heart.

"Mr. Adamson."

Genevieve's POV

My breath caught, and I froze at the sight of him, my blood running cold. He was seated in one of the chairs, accompanied by a woman. His black crisp suit accentuated his every feature. His eyes, still as captivating as I remembered, were a piercing gray. But this time, looking into them didn't evoke warmth; instead, I felt a bitter sensation towards him. His brown hair, once messy, was now slicked back, with a few stray strands escaping.

In conclusion, he was still the most handsome man I had ever met, but I would never admit that to him. My trance was broken when I heard the woman next to him clear her throat. My gaze shifted from him to her. She was stunning, with long black hair elegantly tied up in a bun, enhancing her beautiful face shape. Her deep green eyes, adorned with light green eyeshadow and bright red lipstick, were captivating. A slight pang in my heart reminded me that such a gorgeous woman was sitting beside him, but I had to remind myself that he was no longer mine, and he treated me worse than I deserved. I no longer loved him; he didn't matter.

Realizing I had been staring, I refocused my attention. Both the woman and Wesley were here for business. "Mr. Adamson," I said, maintaining composure in my voice. Internally, I commended myself for not stuttering and sounding perfectly professional.

"Aless—" he began, his voice desperate as he leaned forward towards me.

"You must have mistaken me for someone else. I am Natasha Chadwick. I apologize for my absence. We have a few more clients on the way, but once they arrive, we can proceed with the meeting regarding the investments," I stated, making my way to the other end of the table and taking a seat at the head.

"Um, we are here to meet the owner of the company. We specifically requested to meet with the CEO, not the secretary," the woman seated next to Wesley remarked.

I observed Wesley's fists clench and his jaw tense in response to her comment. Sighing, I hoped she was merely confused about why I was seated at the head of the table. "I am the CEO, Ms.," I replied, looking away from Wesley and directing my attention to the woman.

"Of course you are," she mumbled under her breath. She likely believed that no one else would hear, but unfortunately for her, she was unsuccessful.

"I will not tolerate people undermining me or questioning my leadership skills. If you can't keep your comments to yourself, I will withdraw my proposition. Not only will that cost you millions of dollars, but it will also encourage other companies to follow suit, as many look up to mine," I calmly asserted, growing tired of the sexism I faced not only from men but also from envious women.

Wesley clenched his fists even tighter, shutting his eyes as he attempted to calm himself. "I apologize on Ingrid's behalf, and she will refrain from speaking for the remainder of the meeting," he said, turning to Ingrid. His tone came across more as a threat than an order.

Ingrid's eyes widened, and she pouted, reaching out to touch Wesley's arm like a child. "But Wesleyyyyyy," she whined.

A small pang reverberated in my heart when she called him that, but I frowned, questioning why I felt emotional and physical pain. I had moved on from Wesley; I shouldn't care if he had found someone new. Perhaps I was on the verge of a heart attack. Huh.

"Don't," he threatened, forcefully removing her hands from his arms. She seemed to understand that he was angry and didn't push him further.

As he looked back at me, his eyes softened, but my body reacted differently. Even with his gaze upon me, my entire body tensed, and my chest tightened to the point where breathing felt difficult. Despite my attempts to pretend he was nothing more than a businessman, the reality remained: he was my husband, someone I used to love.

And on top of that, he betrayed me, accused me, and left me with nothing. I felt, and still feel, unloved, burdened with trust issues and numerous other problems caused by him. I felt suffocated in his presence, longing to leave the room and escape the memories and emotions I had suppressed. But I knew I would eventually have to face him, and now was the perfect opportunity to prove to both him and myself that I was okay without him.

"Ale—" he started, but halted when five other businessmen entered the room. I knew he wouldn't attempt to talk to me again because whatever he wanted to say, he wouldn't say in front of others. I calmed myself by taking a few breaths and waited for the remaining participants to settle in. Once everyone was ready to start the meeting, I began discussing my propositions for the companies.

Throughout the meeting, I could feel Wesley's eyes on me, but I never once looked at him. Instead, I focused on the other businessmen when he spoke. As much as I despised admitting it, he was excellent at his job. He spoke with determination and authority, leaving no room for questioning his intentions.

At the conclusion of the meeting, I felt a sense of pride. All the companies became my clients, investing in my company, and I left them with mutually beneficial agreements. The men stood up and bid me farewell with a small bow before exiting the room, except for one.

I could still sense his presence, his gaze, as I stood up and gathered my files from the table. "Ingrid, wait for me in the car," his low, husky voice commanded, sending shivers down my spine.

"I'll be waiting," she responded, raising her voice on pitch, a sound that made me cringe.

I continued organizing the papers into the files, focusing on the task at hand, until I could no longer hear their footsteps. Holding my breath, I collected the organized files in my hands and finally looked up to where Wesley was still standing. He gazed at me with his deep gray eyes, and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

Collecting myself, I offered him a small, insincere smile out of courtesy, even though he didn't deserve it. I began walking towards him, as he stood by the door, needing to escape his presence as quickly as possible—for his sake.

Holding my head high, I averted my gaze from him to the door, silently praying that he wouldn't speak to me, not wanting him to accuse me of false things, yet again.